The Great Temple of Flimsulat. A sorcerer's breath covered it. The ultimate one that the human species can portray.

　The breath of the sorcerer's breath took on air, formed a shape, and became a flame. The flame snake so created crawled through the air, drawing a curve. At the same time as the sparks clicked, Fialaert-La-Borgograd's black eyes flickered as if they were flickering.

　For a moment, Fialaert didn't know what was going on when he saw the flash of light in his vision. It took him a few seconds to realize that the flaming snakes had come from his own fingertips.

　So it was all a reflection. The spinal cord screamed as it writhed, moving Fialat's entire body.

　His throat was as thirsty as if it had been stuffed full of sand, and no amount of spitting was going to quench it. The only thing that filled my heart was an unfathomable frustration and a cloud of emotions.

　A cold breath leaked out. Over and over again, breaths were born at my mouth, and then spilled into the air.

　The black eyes looked only at the golden saint beyond the still unsettled vision. Yes, I'm sure that's what she told me.

　--You and Lugis have known each other since you were born.

　The words were ruminating in his skull at the same time as the flaming snake crawled out of his fingers and tore at the saint. The heat of the flame and its sparks bite and desecrate the holy woman.

　In the meantime, Fialaert felt an indescribable and inexplicable storm of emotions engulfing his heart. His cheeks shook and his back teeth bit down hard.

　How should I talk about it, how should I feel about it?

　He and I have known each other since childhood, the saint said. There is a certain feeling of "so what, so what?

　Just because we've been together since we were children, does that give us a right of possession? Nonsense. It doesn't matter. There's no point in remembering. Such seemingly rational thoughts.

　But contrary to that, there's a thought that rises up from the bottom of my feet.

　They are so ugly that they cannot be spoken of.

　It is jealousy and envy. I've known him and spent time with him since I didn't know him. I have shared my thoughts with him. I feel jealousy and envy for that. These feelings are mixed up in my heart and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

　This is what it means to have a spasm in your gut, Fialaat thought.

　But now there was another emotion as well, one that he felt in his heart. It would be even uglier than the other emotions, he thought.

　It was the taste of relief that he had defeated the object of his jealousy and envy under his own magic. The first corner of the eye is flickering. The first thing you need to do is to look at your eyes. The first thing you need to do is to look at your eyes.

　In the event that you have any kind of questions regarding where and how to use the internet, you can call us at the web site. This was partly because there were not many of them to begin with, and most of them were people of rank and position, but there was a greater reason.

　If two people who deal with demons fight each other, one of them will surely die.

　Demon is not an easy thing to deal with. There is no miracle that can save a life that has been lost, and there is no surefire way to take a risk. The threat of sorcerers and wizards is like walking around in layers of underwear.

　For this reason, there are nations and races that abhor sorcerers and wizards, but there are also nations that actively possess them as armed forces.

　The end of a duel between such threats is always instantaneous. Which one of them will cast a spell first and which one will bite the other's throat first? That's all there is to it.

　That's why a sorcerer's duel sometimes begins with a conversation. In order to find an opening in their opponent's mind, to disrupt and distort it a little, to gain an advantage.

　Fialat managed to regulate his ragged breath and lowered his chest. His shoulders were still bobbing up and down.

　In retrospect, everything Alueno had said had been meant to upset him. No, I should rather think so. It is not possible for a herald of the heraldic religion and a saint of the Great Sacred Church to have an old relationship.

　This is not a knight's tale. Even the gossip of the common people would be a little more believable. I'm sure those words were meant to shake you off your feet and make you spit out your confusion.

　Besides, even if Saint Alueno and Lugis were childhood friends, why would Alueno tell him that?

　Fialat shook her long eyelashes and narrowed her eyes. In his vision, he could see the flames stirring and converging.

　The fact that the saint and the great evil had been related since childhood was something that the Daishonin wanted to hide more than anything. There is no way that the Holy Woman herself would be so happy to talk about it.

　So it was a falsehood. It has to be. That's what Fialaert concluded in his heart. As if to himself.

　And now the truth has gone down in flames. So there was no need to think anymore. Catching the spark out of the corner of his eye, Fyarad slowly brushed his teeth against his lips.

　That was the moment.

　--In the flames, I saw gold. It shone with a glorious majesty, glaring down at its surroundings.

　At the same time, something that could hardly be called a voice struck Fialaert's earlobe. It was just a sound that was being made.

"-a great talent. But please don't do this, I'm a coward. This kind of violence scares the hell out of me.



　While making such a sound, it touched the raging storm of flames with the delicacy of touching glasswork. The flaming serpent that Fialaert had created and so had infused with so much magic. Its neck was tightened by slender fingers that looked even feeble.

　It was an extremely strange sight. Fialat's lustrous black eyes reflected the scene as if frozen.

　Something in the shape of a human being, calling herself a saint, easily grabbed the magical snake and held it in her hands.

　It is hard to believe that this is real. Magic and witchcraft should not be so easy.

　I know that even a child could not hold the magic of another person in his or her own hands.

　Without realizing it, something that looked like sweat was running down Fialaat's forehead. It licked his cheek, giving him a cool sensation.

And that's not good enough. It's a form of magic. The thing I created can't hurt me. Can't it?

　In the face of such a casual sound, Fialaat's lips twisted.

　Why, what, why...? These words never entered Fialaat's mind. The only word that comes to Fialaat's mind now is...

　Definite death.

　The basis of a duel between mages is how to prevent their magic from working.

　Now your enemy has devoured your magic right in front of you, leaving you empty-handed. The game will be over in the blink of an eye. You would die and your opponent would survive.

　There is no time to re-generate magic, no time to breathe out breath. And even if you tried, your enemy would never allow it.

　It's over. Death is there, inescapable. Your Reaper is now standing before you.

　That's all Fialaat saw. His clever mind could no longer conceive of anything else. The white finger of death was stroking his skull.

　The Grim Reaper said with a sneer.

"I told you, Fialat-La-Borgograd. I told you to rest easy. I'm going to give you relief. I will fill you up.

　A string of sounds that made my eyes twitch and my throat turn inside out just listening to them. Fear, fear, fear was seeping out of me.

　At the same time, Fialat had a hunch. This woman in front of him was not a saint.

　This is not the woman who called herself Alueno. It's something else entirely. That something was approaching, taking a step toward him.

　Fialat's legs refused to move. It's not that he's cowering in fear, or that he's lost his strength.

　Really, they just didn't move. It was as if it was frozen.

"There's no point, you can never fight fate. Even if you are a hero.

　Meanwhile, it was getting closer, one step at a time. The golden eyes, the hair on her head, and even the expression on her face belong to the saint who calls herself Alueno.

　But only the voice and the atmosphere were different, as if they had been painted over by something else. It was strange and uncomfortable.

"Oh, so it's nice to meet you, by the way. Let me introduce myself, Fialat-La-Borgograd.

　A series of joyful sounds. Fialaert could feel something twisting in his ear. His brain told him he didn't want to hear it, that he shouldn't hear it.

I am Altius, the divine spirit, and I give you absolute happiness.

　And then Fialaert saw the slender fingers touch his cheek.

　Instantly, he felt something shake the air.